


Tear in My Heart

by Queer_Trash_Queen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, I'll probably fix these later (or not), Post-Senior Year, bc i cant write anything lately, i just have lots of feelings about stydia, this is v short and v sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4500750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queer_Trash_Queen/pseuds/Queer_Trash_Queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Lydia are soulmates, they’re anchors, they belong to each other; but in the end, none of that matters. At the end of the day, what it comes down to is survival, and that means that sometimes it just doesn’t work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Version One

**Author's Note:**

> You had to stand there saying:
> 
> I love you, I love you, I love you  
> we’re soul mates, you and I, but that doesn’t mean it works  
> that doesn’t mean it works
> 
> that means my soul can’t bear to be without yours
> 
> but that doesn’t mean it works 
> 
> “You Couldn’t Just Leave?” Trista Mateer

     It's the end of the summer, and Lydia is leaving. She's standing in front of him on his porch, saying "I love you, I love you, I love you." And she's crying, and he's crying, and Scott is probably behind the door right now pretending not to hear their hearts flutter in distress and their scents turn sour with sorrow. "In another world," she starts. "In another lifetime we -" His fists are clenched at his sides, fighting the urge, the instinct to hold her and fix all of the wrongs. He can't fix this one. He can't fix the circumstances they were born in to.

"We're soulmates, you and I, but that doesn't mean that it works. That means my soul can't bear to be without yours, but that doesn't mean it works. I have to go. I have to leave, and you, you have to _stay_." He's angry now, bitter, even though he knows she's right. She's always, _always_ right.

     "You couldn't just leave?" He spits. "You had to come here, remind me that you're leaving- that you're not choosing us? That you're not choosing me? After all this, everything we've been through, you're just _walking_ _away_." He knows he's being harsh, that they discussed this and discussed this and discussed it. But they never came to a decision. Not together, at least.

     "Stiles," she cries. "Stiles you _know_ it's not like that. I have to go, I have to get out. I can't stay here anymore. This isn't about the pack, or about you and me. This is about survival. We're children, it's too dangerous for any of us here. I have a chance to get out, and I'm taking it. I'm sorry." She tries to reach out for him, but he shoves her away and she stumbles back. He hasn't seen her look afraid of him in a long time, and it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He immediately regrets it, but she's already scurrying off the porch to her car.

He doesn't need supernatural hearing to hear her soft "I'm so sorry," before she climbs into her car and backs out of the driveway. He watches her car grow smaller and smaller until it finally disappears into the distance.  
  
He's pretty sure she took a piece of him with her.


	2. Version 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the second version, and it's basically expanded a bit with an alternate ending.

    It's the end of the summer, and Lydia is leaving them. She’s really actually leaving them. She’d mentioned a few times towards the end of the school year that she had been accepted to MIT  - the first step of her plan to become the youngest recipient of both the Fields medal and the Abel prize before the age of thirty - but none of them thought she’d actually accept the offer. They all thought that at the very least, she’d defer for a year, help them sort out the mess left by the Dread Doctors.

 

     But now, now she's standing on Stiles’ porch in front of him saying "I love you, I love you, I love you." And she's crying, and he's crying, and Scott is probably behind his front door right now pretending not to hear their hearts flutter in distress and smell their scents turn sour with sorrow. "In another world," she starts. "In another lifetime we -" His fists are clenched at his sides, fighting the urge, the instinct to keep her here and fix all of the wrongs in their lives. He can't fix this, though. He can't fix the circumstances they were born into. Nothing can change the fact that they will never lead simple, normal lives. 

 

   "We're soulmates, you and I, but that doesn't mean that it works. That means my soul, it can't bear to be without yours, but that doesn't mean we work. I have to go, and get far, far away from here. I have to leave, and you, you have to  _ stay _ . They need  _ you _ Stiles, they don’t need me." He's angry now, bitter. Because Lydia Martin has never been more wrong in her life. They do need her, all of them. He needs her most of all. But controlling his temper has never been a strong suit of Stiles’, and he can’t hold back his frustrations a second longer. So he takes it out on her.

 

    "You couldn't just leave?" He spits. "You had to come here, to remind me that you're leaving- that you're not choosing us? That you're not choosing me? After all this, everything we've been through, you're just... _walking_ _away_." He knows he's being too harsh, knows that they discussed this and discussed this and discussed it. But they never came to a decision. Not together, at least. Apparently, she’d decided all on her own.

 

    "Stiles," she cries. "Stiles you  _ know _ it's not like that. I have to go, I have to get out. I can't stay here anymore. This isn't about the pack, or about you and me. This is about survival. We are  _ children _ , Stiles. We shouldn’t have to bear this kind of burden. It's too dangerous for any of us to stay here. I have a chance to get out, and I'm taking it. I'm sorry. I’m so sorry." She tries to reach out for him, but he pushes her away and she stumbles back. 

 

     Stiles doesn’t tell her that he had plenty of chances to get out too. He doesn’t tell her because he chose their pack, their  _ family _ . He’s staying, attending Beacon Hills Community College to get a bachelor’s degree in law enforcement - because the pack needs all them together to be strong. To be whole. She’s right, that they shouldn’t have seen the things they have, shouldn’t have had to do the things they’ve done, but it’s the hand they were dealt. It may be a shitty hand, but it’s theirs, and there’s no going back now. He has so much he wants to say to her, but all that comes out is a terrible shout. 

     “You can’t run from us, you know. You can’t hide who you are Lydia.  _ What _ you are. You’ll never,  _ ever _ be able to get away from this. You bring death everywhere you go. Do you really think it’ll be any different at MIT? You just won’t have us to help you explain away all the dead bodies.”

 

     Lydia gasps and visibly recoils. He hasn't seen her look afraid of him in a long time, and it leaves a nasty taste in his mouth, coppery and acerbic, almost like blood. He immediately regrets screaming at her like that, but she's already scurrying off the porch towards her car. She opens the door and pauses for a moment, just stares at him, and he hasn’t seen that look on her face since the first time he tried to touch her after the Nogitsune. He wants to tell her he takes it all back, beg her to stay here, with him.

 

     Stiles doesn't need supernatural hearing to hear her soft "I'm so sorry," before she climbs into her car and backs out of the driveway. He watches the taillights of her car grow smaller and smaller until they finally disappear into the distance.

 

     He's pretty sure she’s taking a piece of him with her.

 

**: . :**

 

     Twelve years down the line, and there’s an article in the Beacon Hill Bugle that catches his attention. She’s made the front page, her hometown proudly boasting about being the place where the youngest recipient of both the Fields medal  _ and _ the Abel prize grew up. He reads it over his breakfast of leftover takeout in his squad car, sips his coffee and pretends it doesn’t sting to see her grinning out at him in black and white. They haven’t spoken since that morning on his front porch. He’d almost reached out to her a few times, but he figured she was better off without him, without all of them. 

     Stiles thumbs his wedding band thoughtfully before folding the paper up and sliding it into the glovebox. He hopes she knows how proud he is, even after all these years.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I found the second version I wrote of this, and I didn't wanna post it as a stand alone, so now you can choose between the heartbreaking ending and the soul crushing ending.


End file.
